


Remember Me?

by MusicalOblivion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demon Dean Winchester Being an Asshole, F/M, Flashbacks, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, POV Multiple, Reader-Insert, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 21:48:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14270241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalOblivion/pseuds/MusicalOblivion
Summary: The reader was an old neighbor of Sam and Dean's before Mary's death. When Sam shows up at her house out of the blue asking for help, she is pulled headfirst back into the hunter life. Set in S10 E3.





	1. Prologue

 

**-Sam's POV-**

Sam stood in the corner of the room, face shrouded in darkness. He was in the warded dungeon of the Men Of Letters bunker, which he and his brother inherited. But now it was just him. Despite the fact that Sam and Dean were currently in the same room, they had never been further apart.

Sam gasped quietly as the syringe pierced his skin. Crimson liquid bubbled into the tube. He took the needle out of his arm and, walking to the center of the room, plunged it into Dean's. Dean roared in pain, his eyes flicking black. Sam turned away. He couldn't bear to look at his brother like this. 

Dean stopped screaming, and Sam pulled the syringe out. He checked for any signs of humanity in his brother, but to no avail. Frustrated, he dropped the syringe. It clattered loudly on the metal table. Sam left the dungeon, not even bothering to glance back at Dean as he slammed the door. He needed help. 

 


	2. Up In Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief background into who the reader is and what they mean to Dean.

**-32 years ago in Lawrence, Kansas-**

 

**Reader's POV**

It was late at night. You woke up to sirens and a frantic knock on your front door. You crept out of your bedroom. Everything in the house was bathed in a brilliant orange light that shone through the windows. Wait-  _orange light?_ You glanced outside, and, to your horror, the house across the street was on fire. Smoke billowed from each window, the flames refusing to give way to the firefighters' efforts. Tears welled up in your eyes.  _That's Dean's house!_

You scrambled down the stairs and threw open the front door. Standing in front of you was a very rattled Dean, baby Sam in his arms. You pulled him inside and closed the door. 

"What happened?" You asked, trying to sound calm. 

Dean's bottom lip quivered. "M-my mom. Burning," he stammered.

You opened your mouth to express your confusion, but were drowned out by the wailing sirens of another fire truck. You and Dean both turned your attention across the street as men in fire suits poured out of the truck. One of them took off his helmet, and you gasped as you recognized him.

"Daddy?" You said quietly. Your dad had been working for the Lawrence Fire Department for as long as you could remember, but ever since your mom died in a gas leak explosion he had been taking on much longer shifts. You pulled open the door and screamed his name, but your little voice wouldn't carry through the sound of the roaring fire.

Panic climbed in your throat. Your vision faded in and out of focus. Next thing you knew, you were running barefoot across the street with Dean in tow. Your ankles protested every pounding step, but you didn't care. Suddenly, a strong arm shot out and grabbed you. You kicked and screamed as John Winchester tightened his iron grip on you and Dean. 

Suddenly, the building in front of you groaned and the roof began to sink in, before caving altogether and crushing everything inside. 

John let you go and you sunk to your knees. Tears blurred your vision. You heard loud crying. It might have been you. Dean slid to the ground beside you and reached for your hand. Instead, you pulled him into a hug. The two of you sat there in one another's shaking arms, teary eyes glued to the smoking pile of rubble. Sam rested in Dean's arms, still fast asleep. You and Dean exchanged worried glances. Though you were only four, both of you could feel that nothing would ever be the same. Just like the house in front of you, your, Sam's, and Dean's childhoods had gone up in flames. 


	3. An Unexpected Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you for reading! I have a couple chapters ready to be posted, so those will probably go up very soon. I have a feeling I will be very busy for the next few days so there might be a small hiatus until I get more on top of school work. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Y/F/S: Your favorite song

**-Present day-**

 

The familiar melody of Y/F/S rang through the interior of your car. You quietly hummed along as you tapped your fingers on the steering wheel. This was just a grocery run, but you didn't care. You loved to drive. 

You pulled into your driveway, failing to notice the familiar black car parked at the curb. You picked up the paper grocery bags from the trunk and headed for the front door. Pulling out your keys, you reached down to unlock the door but stepped back in shock when it swung open all on its own.  _Someone was in the house._

Carefully and quietly, you set your groceries down in the hallway and returned to the car. You picked up the small handgun that you kept in the glove compartment and crept silently into the house You didn't have to go far before you found what you were looking for. Someone was sitting on the couch, their back facing you. You loaded your gun and put it to the back of their head. 

"Turn around slowly or I will shoot you," you warned, voice steely calm. 

The man did what he was asked, standing up and slowly turning around. When you saw his face, you lowered your gun in disbelief.

"Sam?"

"Y/N."

You laughed and hugged him. "What are you doing here? You know, you could have called instead of breaking in."

"I didn't break in," he countered, holding up a set of keys. 

You nodded in understanding. "Dean's keys," you said, dropping into a nearby chair. Sam took his seat on the couch again. "So," you began. "Where's Dean?"

Sam's face darkened. "That's why I'm here."

"What happened? Is he okay?"

"Kind of," Sam said quietly.

"You've got to give me more than a 'kind of,' Sam!"

"It's a long story."

"Well, shorten it then," you quipped.

"Don't freak out, okay?"

"Sam, I swear-"

"-Dean's a demon."

The room got quiet. You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it again. After a long pause, you worked up the courage to ask a question.

"Was it the Mark?" You asked, voice quivering.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Yes. Metatron killed him, and I... I asked Crowley to bring him back But..." He paused, and suddenly became very interested in the couch cushion. You swore you could see a glisten of tears on his cheek. "...Not like this," he finished. 

Your heart ached at the sight of Sam like this. Though he refused to admit it, he still needed his big brother. You stood up and joined him on the couch, wrapping your arm around his shoulders.

"Can you cure him? Like you did with Crowley?"

Sam shook his head. "I tried that. It's not working and I'm afraid continuing would kill him."

"What do you need me for, then?" You winced at how harsh your statement sounded, and followed up with a much softer "How can I help?"

"I need something that reminds him of his humanity," explained Sam.

"But why me?"

Sam sighed loudly and looked up. "He likes you, Y/N. Like,  _likes_ you."

You took in a sharp breath. You had always had a small crush on Dean, but you had never considered that the feeling could be mutual. 

"Don't tell him I told you that. If he found out I said something, he'd kill me, demon or no."

Does- does he know that I-"

"-Like him back?" Sam finished. 

"Yeah, that," you answered nervously. Sam had always known about your little crush, but the two of you never spoke about it. It was more of a silent understanding. 

"No," responded Sam. "But I was thinking that if he sees you, it might remind him of who he used to be."

 

\---

 

Next thing you knew, you were climbing into the passenger seat of the Impala. 

 

 


	4. Aftermath

**-32 years ago in Lawrence, Kansas-**

 

You and Dean sat on the curb, watching as John spoke to the police. The sun was just visible above the trees. To you, something as joyful as the rising sun seemed almost inappropriate after the events of the night. Sam was still cradled in Dean's arms, oblivious to the horrors around him. John finished his conversation with the police officers and turned back to you and Dean.

"Dean, put Sam in his car seat. We're leaving."

"Where are we going? And what about Y/N?"

John sighed impatiently. "I said, we're leaving. The police can take Y/N to her family."

"I don't have any family," you said in a timid voice. 

John paused and looked at you. "Where are your parents?"

"In Heaven, I think, " you said nonchalantly.

"Grandparents?"

"With Mommy and Daddy."

"Aunts? Uncles?"

You shrugged. "Don't have any."

John took a minute to think. "Fine, you can come along. But only until we find someone to take you."

 

\---

 

Neither you nor Dean knew what was going on. You had both just lost a parent and a home, and were now leaving everything you ever knew behind, travelling only with the clothes on your back. Despite this, neither of you dared to ask John where you were going. No one felt much like talking anyway. 


	5. I Need You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry I didn't post any over the past two days, I ran out of time! This chapter is my favorite one so far, so I am really excited to be finally tying it up. There is a LOT of angst, by the way. I may or may not have started crying while writing this. Oops? You'll see the effects of that very clearly once you read. Anyway, enjoy!

**-Present day-**

 

You could hear the rusted gears groaning inside of the lock mechanism as Sam twisted his key inside the door, One final click, and the inside of the Men Of Letters bunker came into view. You had been there once before, but the sight still astonished you. But you didn't have the luxury of standing and gawking right now. You followed Sam through the winding halls, all the way to the warded dungeon door. You could feel your throat tightening with anxiousness as you approached. Sam put his hand on the door and looked at you. 

"Be ready. The Dean you remember is nothing like the Dean you're about to meet."

With that, he pushed on the door. It swung away with a loud creak. Inside, the room was quite bare. A syringe sat on a metal table. To the left of it was a jar of holy water and a thin file folder. In the center of the room was a demon trap symbol on the floor, and inside the circle was an empty chair. 

_An empty chair._

"Sam?" You asked. "Where's Dean?"

"He's right-" Sam stopped, eyes widening in shock as he stared at the empty room. He pushed past you and examined the broken straps attached to the char.

"How did he get past the warding?" You asked.

"He must have had just enough human blood in him to break free of it. It would have hurt like Hell, but it's possible." Sam picked up the bottle of holy water and threw it to you. "Y/N, go get the demon-killing knife from my nightstand."

"I don't want to hurt him!" You protested.

Sam nodded. "Neither do I, but I don't want you to get hurt either. Just... avoid stabbing vital organs, okay? I'm going to put the bunker on lockdown."

You nodded and sprinted for Sam's bedroom. It didn't take you long to find the blade. It was right where Sam said it would be. You grabbed it and went searching for Sam. Hopefully, you wouldn't run into Dean first. You held the knife out in front of you menacingly, ready to strike. But your trembling hands told a different story. You had killed plenty of demons without a second thought, but this was Dean. You could never hurt him, even if he was a demon. 

You were pulled out of your wandering thoughts by a loud crash and a muffled groan. Breaking into a run, you searched for the source of the noise.

 

**-Sam's POV-**

 

Sam leaned against the door, breathing heavily. He had just barely been able to lock down the bunker before running into Dean. He heard a grunt outside, followed by the sound of metal hitting wood. To the right of his leg, a hammer burst through the door. Yelping and jumping back, Sam readied himself for Dean inevitably breaking into the room. This time, there were no other ways out. He was trapped.

Dean burst through the door, white-hot rage visible in his eyes. Splintered wood flew across the room and covered every surface. Dean marched up to Sam, who had already backed himself against the wall. Picking him up by the collar of his shirt, Dean threw him across the room like a rag doll.

Sam groaned. The pain was blinding. Every inch of his body throbbed. He noticed a strange taste in his mouth and immediately identified it as blood. As Dean approached, Sam reached out and threw a hard punch in his direction. Miss. He kicked his feet in an attempt to trip his brother. Another miss.

Dean bent down to Sam's level, holding up his closed fist tauntingly. 

"This is for every lie you've told me," Dean said, throwing a hard punch at Sam's face. "This is for not looking for me when I went to Purgatory." Another punch. "And this," whispered Dean, getting even closer to Sam's face. "is for Mom." Punch.

Sam spit out blood. "You want to kill me? Just do it."

Dean smirked. "I will. But I won't make it quick and easy. That would be a mercy. No, I'll make it long and painful. And guess what?" Dean put his hammer up to Sam's cheek, bouncing it up and down on each syllable. "I'll enjoy every minute of it." He pulled his ax back, ready to strike. Sam squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation. Then a familiar yell came from across the room.

"Hey!"

Dean paused and turned to look at the source of the noise. Y/N was standing in the doorway, holding a demon blade. Sam breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her.

 

**-Reader's POV-**

 

"Dean, put down the hammer," you warned.

Dean stood frozen, not moving to put lay down his weapon nor to attack. You set your own blade on the floor and put your hands up, walking into the room.

"Dean? It's Y/N. Remember me?"

He just stared at you. You walked closer, ignoring Sam violently shaking his head in warning. You gingerly approached Dean and touched his arms lightly.

"Lawrence, Kansas. 1979. You were born three months and two days before I was. I lived across the street from you, in the yellow house." The tears you had been working so hard to suppress began to roll freely down your cheeks. "We used to play tag in the street together, and climb trees. When we got hungry, Mary would make us grilled cheese sandwiches. You took a deep breath. "November 2nd, 1983. You came to my door in the middle of the night. Your mom died in the house fire, and my dad died trying to save her." You could have sworn you could see a glimmer of understanding in Dean's green eyes. You continued, now crying even harder as the words poured out of your mouth. "John took me in until we found an orphanage for me years later. Dean, I was with you when you killed your first vamp. I was there when Sam said his first words or walked his first step. I was there when you needed a shoulder to cry on. I was always there, Dean, and right now I need you to be here for me!" Voice practically at a yell now, you did your best to speak through choking sobs. "Wake up, dammit!" You hugged him, and whispered one last phrase into his ear: "Remember me?"

"Always."

You pulled away, studying Dean's eyes. You were almost sure you'd heard a whisper. Maybe it was your imagination? But then you saw it. Somewhere in Dean's eyes was a spark of humanity; of love. Then Dean repeated the phrase that sent waves of hope through your body because you knew it meant everything would be okay.

"Always, Y/N."

With that, Dean's eyes rolled back and he dropped into your arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was definitely a longer chapter. I have two more chapters I plan on writing, but after that, who knows? The next chapter will be another flashback chapter, keeping the pattern.


	6. Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, guys! I'm so sorry for not posting, my grades took a sudden dip and it's taken me almost a month of nonstop work to get them back up. But here I am now, with a brand new flashback chapter! I have two more chapters in the making right now. Not going to make any predictions and/or promises about when those will come out, we all know how that went last time...  
> Anyway, here's the new chapter. Enjoy!

**-29 years ago in Sioux Falls, South Dakota-**

 

It was August. You and the Winchester brothers were stuck in a run-down motel while John was on a hunt. The three of you were practically choking in the stuffy air; the air conditioning was broken and neither you nor Dean knew how to fix it.

You had grown accustomed to this life. Since leaving home, your fifth, sixth, and seventh birthdays had passed. The only parties you got were the ones you and Dean threw for each other, the only gift you received being the .45 that John had thrust into your arms when you told him you were afraid of the dark. Sam was now three years old and waddled around your motel room without a care in the world. Knowing that he too would have to grow up like this broke your heart.

John entered the motel room, looking weary as usual. In one hand, he clutched his weapon bag, in the other a wad of papers. He dropped the duffel on one of the beds and slammed the papers onto the coffee table. You and Dean exchanged confused glances. Finally, John spoke up.

"Y/N, Dean, come here."

The two of you obediently walked over and sat in chairs, watching John with wide eyes.

"The job I just finished was at an orphanage. Poltergeist."

You and Dean nodded.

"Before I left, I asked if they had any openings and..." John pointed to his papers. "They'll take you, Y/N."

No one said anything. You looked over at Dean. He was staring at the papers on the table, a shattered look on his face. Finally, you broke the silence.

"When?"

"Tonight," John answered, scribbling on his papers.

Dean locked eyes with his father. The two watched each other closely as if daring one another to speak.

"Y/N, go pack your bags," John ordered, eyes never leaving Dean.

You stood up and gathered your belongings. 

 

\---

 

The car ride was short, but it felt like hours. Tension hung in the air like thick fog, but no one said a word. Even the radio was silenced. The only sounds where the Impala's wheels against the road and the rain on its windows.

Even at the age of seven, you understood why John was doing this. You weren't his kid. You weren't his responsibility. The hunting life wasn't your birthright. Still, it hurt to leave Sam and Dean.

You heard the crunching of gravel as the car pulled into the parking lot. John put the car in park and turned to look at you.

"Y/N, time to go."

You nodded and stepped out of the car with your duffel, ignoring the pouring rain. You turned to leave, but a hand grabbed your wrist. Dean pulled you into a tight hug. You would never have let go if John had not called out to you.

"Y/N! Hurry up!"

Dean took a hesitant step back. still gripping your hand tightly. The lights from the building illuminated his face, the shadows giving him a ghostly appearance. You studied his face. Were the glistening dots on his cheeks raindrops or tears?

"I'll see you again. I can feel it," Dean reassured you.

You nodded. You too had raindrops on your cheeks now. One last brave smile, and you followed John inside. Yes, a piece of your heart had fallen away when your fingertips had left Dean's. 


	7. Welcome Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I know I've been gone a while. Around the time I posted my last chapter, schoolwork started picking up. Studying for finals was pretty much all I did. So I decided to take a break from writing. Told myself I'd continue during the summer. But once summer hit, I found myself avoiding posting. I'm not really sure why. I just couldn't do it. Today, I figured: "Hey, I've got like three chapters just waiting to be typed up, how hard can this be?" And here I am. Let's hope this lasts. 
> 
> Also, one thing I noticed with this fic is that it is starting to move a little more towards being a canon storyline. This isn't a bad thing and it won't change the story too much, all it means is that starting in this chapter I may be taking some of my dialogue straight from the show and converting it to include the reader.

**-Present Day-**

 

You stood in the warded dungeon, watching silently as Sam injected one last vial of blood into Dean. After he had collapsed, you and Sam had carried him back to the chair. Cas had shown up to help as well.

Sam set the needle on the table and cast a worried look at his unconscious brother. "What the hell are we doing to him, guys? I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said that he didn't want to be cured. That he didn't want to be human."

Castiel looked at Dean, sympathy in his eyes. "Well, I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but also such profound pain."

"Cas has a point," you cut in. "For Dean, this may seem easier."

Just then, Dean began to stir. The three of you shifted anxiously. You readied your demon knife. Cas held up his angel blade, and Sam opened a flask of holy water. Dean looked up. Your breath caught as black eyes met your gaze. Then they gave way to Dean's emerald green irises. He groaned and shook his head before taking in his surroundings. His eyes landed on Cas and Sam, not noticing you in the shadows.

"You look worried, fellas," Dean said. His voice was different; kinder.

Sam flicked his flask at Dean, who flinched slightly as water hit his face. But there was no burning. You stepped out of the corner, grinning. Dean's eyes widened when he saw you.

A tear slipped silently down your cheek. "Welcome back, Dean."


	8. The Things That Go Bump in the Night

**-24 years ago in Sioux Falls, South Dakota-**

 

Five years. You had been at the orphanage for five years. You had already lost all hope of ever seeing the Winchesters again. Every morning for the first year, you looked out the window hoping to see the Impala pulling in. But it never happened. Eventually, you gave up. So you stayed there. No shoulder to cry on. No real friends. And worst of all, your memory of Dean was fading.

You were in bed now, gazing up at the ceiling. The other girls at the orphanage were asleep. After all, it was two in the morning. But sleep never came easily to you. You knew too much about the things that 'go bump in the night.'

You had just rolled over and closed your eyes when a scream came from downstairs. You sat straight up in bed and ran out of the room. The other girls were slowly waking up, groggy and confused. Positioning yourself as low to the ground as possible, you peered between the balcony's wooden posts. Downstairs was the caretaker, Ms. Bunnet. She was backed against the wall, terror evident on her face. There was another woman approaching her. Wait- not another woman. Ms. Bunnet and this stranger had the same black hair, same slender frame, same EVERYTHING. You gasped in shock.  _A shifter._

Just then, a man with a sawed-off shotgun burst through the door. Ms. Bunnet and Not-Ms.-Bunnet turned to look. The man aimed his gun, but Not-Ms.-Bunnet snarled and swatted it out of his hands, then punched him across the face. The weapon and its owner fell to the floor.

Damn. You had to do something! You racked your brain for any information on how to kill a shifter. It was something about... silver! Silver killed shapeshifters! But what to use? You used to have a silver knife, but Ms. Bunnet had confiscated it on the grounds that it was too dangerous. You could have argued that was the point, but it wouldn't have done much good. What else? You glanced around the room. There! A silver letter opener on the desk. Not-Ms.-Bunnet was too busy putting Ms. Bunnet in a chokehold to notice you, so you took the opportunity to dash down the stairs. The element of surprise was something you'd need.

You hit the first floor at a run and wasted no time approaching the desk. You only had one shot at this. Snatching up the letter opener, you vaulted off of the desk and launched yourself into a flying leap at the shifter. Not-Ms.-Bunnet spun around, but it was already too late for them to escape. 

You plunged the letter opener into the shifter's abdomen at full speed and then rolled into a safe landing on the ground. Not-Ms.-Bunnet looked down in shock at the object protruding from their stomach before crumpling to the floor. It was over.

The man stood up, wiping blood off of his face. He looked at you, clearly bewildered. His face then shifted from confusion to realization to recognition.

"is that-" The man paused before sighing dramatically. "Balls."


	9. I Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while! Sorry guys... but I'm back now. I really can't seem to find any inspiration for this story. Unfortunately this means that I cannot continue. I don't think I can do this story any justice if I no longer have feeling for it. I have an ending created, and plan on resolving the storyline. Maybe someday I will come back and make an alternate ending. I am not sure at the moment. But this ending is one I created earlier, so it should be pretty good! I have some ideas for other stories coming up. This chapter is a fairly long one...thanks for reading!

**-Present Day-**

 

You sat in the bunker drinking a much-deserved beer and watching Castiel flip through books on exorcisms. Hearing footfall in the hallway, you stood up. 

"Hey," Sam greeted you.

"How's he doing?" You and Cas asked in unison before looking at each other quizzically.

"He's still a little out of it, but better, I think." Sam shrugged. "I mean, I think this whole thing, the blood cure, all of it..." Sam paused. "Really wrecked him, you know?"

"Yeah," you responded, glancing downward.

"But on the plus side, he's hungry again."

"I could go pick something up," you offered. 

"Nah I got it," Sam reassured you. "You two mind keeping an eye?"

You nodded. Sam turned to leave. Cas opened his mouth to say something but you shook your head. You knew he was going to mention the Mark, but Sam couldn't handle much more stress right now. Once Sam was out of earshot, you turned to Cas and put a hand on his shoulder. 

"I know the Mark is important, but Sam needs a break. One battle at a time, okay?"

The angel nodded. Despite his time without grace, he still sometimes struggled to understand human emotion. You gave him a reassuring pat on the back and headed towards Dean's room. 

 

**Dean's POV**

 

Dean was sitting on his bed, looking at some old photos. He felt horrible. And not just physically. He had tried to kill his own brother! I mean, who does that? Just then, someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah," Dean answered, quickly hiding the photos under a book on his nightstand. The door opened, and in walked Y/N followed by Cas. Y/N smiled, but Castiel gave Dean a puzzled look.

"You look terrible," he remarked.

Dean chuckled. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to lie every now and again."

"No, it wouldn't kill me. I just...you-"

"-Forget it." Dean and Y/N said in unison. They looked at each other, amused by Cas's bluntness.

"Well, you, on the other hand-" Dean began. "Looking good. So, are you back?"

"At least temporarily. It's a long story. Crowley, stolen grace, there's a... female outside in the car..."

Y/N raised an eyebrow and Dean just stared at the angel.

"Another time," Castiel warned.

Dean nodded. "Well, thank you for stepping in when you did. Both of you."

Cas and Y/N smiled faintly.

"What does Sam say?"

"I'm sure that Sam knows that whatever you said -or whatever you did- wasn't really you," Cas reassured Dean. Y/N nodded in agreement.

Dean looked at the two, shocked. "I tried to kill him!"

Y/N took the opportunity to speak up. "It'd take a lot more than trying to kill Sam with a hammer to make him want to walk away."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You realize how screwed up our lives are that even makes sense?"

Y/N and Cas laughed. 

"Well, I'll leave you two to talk," Cas said, backing out of the room.

"I'm glad you're here, man," Dean told him.

Cas gave a curt nod. "Get some rest, Dean." With that, he shut the door and left Y/N and Dean in the room together.

Dean sat back down on the bed and gestured for Y/N to do the same. He wasn't sure what to say to her. The thought that he could have ever hurt her tore him apart.

 

**Y/N's POV**

 

You sat on the bed, deep in thought. You weren't sure if you should ask Dean about what he remembered or leave it alone altogether. Reminding Dean of the things he did or even what you said to him seemed impossible.

it was Dean who tried to break the silence. "So-"

"-What do you remember?" You asked, curiosity winning over fear.

Dean paused. "Not much. I remember what I did to Sam..."

You nodded. "Y'know, Cas is right. Sam cares too much about you to let something like this ruin things."

Dean gave you a weak smile, but you could see doubt in his eyes. "I remember what you said, Y/N," he added.

It was your turn to freeze up. It felt like ice had just filled your veins. Your cheeks and ears burned. Swallowing deeply, you glanced up sheepishly at Dean. The two of you sat there studying each other for what seemed like an eternity. Then Dean wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a kiss.

The ice in your veins melted, Your heart fluttered. Dean smelled like gunpowder and antique car leather. His touch reminded you of all your fondest memories. His voice sounded like happiness. Everything about Dean was heaven. The two of you pulled apart. You had so many things to say, but the words jumbled in your head. Finally, Dean broke the silence.

"You were right, Y/N, I do need you. And you've always been there for me. I want to do the same."

You looked deep into his green eyes. "Don't die on me again, Winchester."

"Then don't leave on me again, Y/L/N."

You laughed and kissed him again.


End file.
